As the two boys sat in holy reverence of the pilfered tome, Sean wondered about what his friend had said. Philosophically speaking, did stealing a book from a vampire and stashing it at your aunt’s apartment constitute killing someone? If what his dad said about her was correct, she could probably handle herself. Probably. Anyway, she ate a lot of garlic.

“Should we read it?” Dean whispered.

Giving him his best look to convey an opinion of low intelligence, Sean responded, “Of course we’re going to read it! Do you think I went through all that just to use it to prop up the coffee table?”

“Well, it’s kinda wobbly, and you’re mom’s always…”

“Dude,” Sean cut him off, “What did I tell you about talking about my mom?”

Dean sulked a little, grumbled, then turned back to the treasure, “Let’s just read the book.”

With a deep breath, Sean said in all seriousness, “You do realize there’s no turning back after this? You can’t unlearn this stuff. Are you ready?”

With a grave nod, the boys began to read.